Autumn leaves me speechless

autumn leaves me speechless- polaroid poem

Just as classic paintings caught the public eye
pasted as sickly décor for gift box lids
Autumn is in danger of the cliché

like seasoned blackberry pickers, dead poets
have already had the choicest words to cherish
this most august off-summer spectacle

whilst lyricists in Oriental enigma code
condense with stricture of syllable
lunar patterns of lateral thought

yet who amongst us in not moved
to stop and stare, intoning vows
that fix the moment in a Faustian pact

we too have walked trance-like
through fiery forests and heard the ghostly touch
of each leaf fall before the mold set ins

stirred by mix of melancholy moments
a circling Samhain of climactic climate
that celebrates its ending in la petite mort

strong colours and fierce brushwork
more than sixty harvests reaped and gleaned
still Autumn leaves me speechless

© Laura Granby 2015

More free versifying this Sunday as I join the many talents stored up at  Poetry Pantry

30 thoughts on “Autumn leaves me speechless

  1. Autumn is both beautiful and sad in its truth as beauty comes with the price of colder harder times to come and the realisation that even for us another year is ending. “La petite mort” indeed.

    1. before the agony there is the ecstasy – enjoy the fiesta now I’m older instead of just seeing the portent of winter

    1. thank you Bjorn – had to say something about this glorious time even if it was not knowing how to say it!

  2. In danger of cliche…I agree, going much the way of cherry blossoms, every word has already been said…yet they have the beauty to create a silence inside that needs no words to appreciate them.

  3. As do your words – leave me speechless..a breathtaking and reflective poem – if only there were more time to enjoy each crisp leaves before the mold sets in

  4. So very true, Laura. Poets have written about autumn ‘forever,’ but that does not stop us each autumn from once again reflecting on its beauty. I think autumn is the most beautiful season of the year and the one that makes me most reflective. From the poems I have been reading of late, it seems many feel the same. So many are struck by autumn….despite the fact that we probably do realize that ‘dead poets have already had the choicest words.’

    1. “I, with as easy hunger, take
      entire my season’s dole;
      welcome the ripe, the sweet, the sour,
      the hollow and the whole”
      Laurie Lee

  5. I do adore how you weave magic with your words Laura…..this stanza really struck me

    ‘stirred by mix of melancholy moments
    a circling Samhain of climactic climate
    that celebrates its ending in la petite mort’

    a fabulous description of this magnificent season.

  6. I really like how tightly structured this is. You can tell you worked long and hard on this… so that, while the meaning is beautiful, I think the structure and sound and rhythms are more so.

    1. I appreciate your observations – am working on rhythm where there is no rhyme

  7. WOW! This poem, far from being poetically speechless, takes the difficulty of describing autumn to whole new heights. I think you have surpassed yourself, with intricate language and wonderful imagery. This is truly wonderful writing!

    1. and am hard-pressed to thank you enough for these words of support and encouragement Sherry

  8. Beautiful words and the way you put them together. You are an amazing poet Laura. I am quite lost for words really so I hope these few words say enough! ❤

    1. As one who has a wonderful way with words herself, I blush with many, many thanks Gill ^^’

    1. thank you Beth and glad you noticed the image – it inspired this ‘shall I compare thee to a summer’s day’ moment!

  9. Autumn is my favorite season. No matter how many years I have seen the crisp, fiery New England foliage, it never ceases to amaze and astound me. I also do my best writing at this time of year, another bonus!

    1. maybe the full-lit half-life of the season gives a slower pace for visionary thought

feedback is food for thought....

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